


He Has My Heart

by theangryuniverse



Series: Lord Nikiforov takes a Mate [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A little bit of angst, Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Day 6: Love Confessions, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Regency, Victorian, YOI Regency Week 2020, just a tiny lil bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24129118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangryuniverse/pseuds/theangryuniverse
Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged that an alpha in possession of a mate must be amongst the happiest of men.And truly, Victor cannot remember a time where he has been happier than he is now. For every morning, he comes to the realisation that he is married, and that his mate is absolutely wonderful.It is not easy, being married, but neither of them would want it any other way.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont/Christophe Giacometti
Series: Lord Nikiforov takes a Mate [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741048
Comments: 44
Kudos: 550
Collections: YOI REGENCY WEEK





	He Has My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmHunter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmHunter/gifts), [Linisen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linisen/gifts), [FrozenBrownie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenBrownie/gifts).



> I just couldn't let go of my Victorian boys.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that an alpha in possession of a mate must be amongst the happiest of men.

And truly, Victor cannot remember a time where he has been happier than he is now. For every morning, he comes to the realisation that he is married, and that his mate is absolutely wonderful. Every single day that he has spent with Yuuri so far has been nothing but delightful, each hour in his company a succession of the most blissful of moments, time that he is sure would have otherwise been spent in lonely misery.

They had left London the day after their wedding, with Victor’s parents and the Lady Minako bidding them farewell, wishing them only the best for their honeymoon. Of course, Victor had kept his promise to travel to Edinburgh first to visit Yuuri’s family, and meeting the people that his mate loved the most had been a most pleasant experience. But it had been Victor’s greatest joy to see his mate reunited with dear Vicchan. Together with the poodle, they had set out for Europe, spending several weeks travelling the continent, learning more about its rich history, and even more so, learning about each other.

Victor often thinks fondly of those days, now that they are back in London and their life as a married couple has actually begun. The daily grind has them back before they know it, and especially Victor finds it hard to adjust to London clocks again where everything has its time and place. To get up at the same hour every morning, to have breakfast and then take the carriage to the Houses of Parliament, or to the club, meeting with important people, taking care of the business, all the while trying not to forget his dear husband – his life is a balance act, but it is calm, and Victor would not want it any other way. For every evening he gets to come home to his mate, and regardless of how tedious his day might have been, a smile from Yuuri is enough to make him forget about all the things that tend to worry him. Yuuri’s presence alone is soothing to his soul, and Victor heart aches every time he looks at him, and gets to see him smile.

And of course, there are the nights that he gets to spend with him. The few nights per week that he gets to spend in Yuuri’s bed, where they celebrate their union over and over again. Yuuri is always like wax in Victor’s embrace, holding onto him as the most beautiful moans and cries come over his lips, his legs hooked around Victor’s waist and pulling him impossibly close, as if afraid of letting go.

Victor never fails to find release in Yuuri’s arms.

Sometimes, Victor brings home work, and spends the evening hours at his desk, and those are the times when his mate has to sleep alone. But Yuuri’s bed is never truly abandoned, with either one or both of their dogs keeping him company when Victor is not able to. Nothing has made Victor happier than seeing his Makkachin being absolutely delighted about Yuuri’s presence in the house, and has befriended little Vicchan in no time. To know that there are always the dogs around to keep his mate company puts Victor’s mind eat ease every time he leaves the house.

He hates to leave him alone, but he is a busy man, and the affairs of parliament demand his attention.

But Yuuri has learnt to keep himself busy, now being the new master of the house and in charge of running a London home. It is an intimidating task, and he has admitted of being nervous about it to Victor during their honeymoon. But Yuuri is a quick learner and has adjusted in no time, thanks to the helping hand of Victor’s loyal butler and their devoted servants.

Victor could not be prouder of him.

There are things, of course, that need further negotiations, and they learn more about each other as the weeks pass. Yuuri, Victor learns, does not enjoy having breakfast in bed like most married omegas of his status, but prefers to have the first meal of the day together with Victor in the breakfast room. The first time turns turned up in nothing but his dressing gown and slippers, Victor drops his toast with jam right onto his morning newspaper. His state of dress is quickly explained by the fact that the maid, upon being told that Yuuri wished to have breakfast with his husband, simply refused to believe it and would not help him dress until he had eaten. The confusion is cleared up at once, and after making clear to everyone that this is also Yuuri’s house, and that he can go and eat wherever he pleases regardless of the hour in whichever clothes he prefers, there are no further complaints.

And truly, there is nothing lovelier than having Yuuri with sleep-mussed hair sit at his side in the mornings, nursing a cup of tea and enjoying a portion of scrambled eggs on toast.

Victor, Yuuri learns, tends to frequently fall asleep at his desk and drool all over his important papers. It is especially bad when there are heavy debates at parliament that need to be prepared, and Yuuri finds himself lying awake many nights, worried about his husband working so hard. He cannot help but get out of bed if he has not heard Victor retreating to his bedroom by the time the clock strikes midnight, and each time, he will find his husband asleep at his desk, his head resting on his arms, with the fire having long gone out. He will then gently shake him awake and guide him upstairs into bed, never to Victor’s room but into his own bed, the need to have Victor close even more overwhelming when the alpha is in such a state. Victor will always fall asleep again the moment his head will hit the pillow, and only then, Yuuri can soothe his racing heart and fall asleep, too.

It is not easy, being married, but neither of them would want it any other way.

For Yuuri is kind, and soft-spoken, and he does not need many words to lift Victor’s mood. And Victor is patient, and understanding, and treats Yuuri with respect.

Yuuri is sure he could not have been luckier.

“What are you thinking about?”

Yuuri looks up from his book, finding his husband studying him with interest from where he sits at his desk. They often spend time together like this on the weekends, the library being their favourite room in the house, for it is warm and cosy in the cooler seasons. The dogs favour this room, too, often resting before he fireplace. Vicchan rests to Yuuri’s feet, his small head resting on top of his shoes, looking up as his master moves.

“I did not mean to disturb your reading,” Victor says with an apologetic smile. “You seemed so very lost in your thoughts just now.”

Yuuri smiles back. “It just came to me that we have been married for three months now, that is all.”

Victor blinks, and then, his entire face lights up. “Indeed, we are,” he says and smiles even wider. He rises from his desk and walks around it towards Yuuri, sinking to his knees beside him and kissing the hand that lies on the armrest. “How time flies. Three most wonderful months, would you not agree?”

“Yes,” Yuuri whispers and blushes at his husband’s sweet gesture. “It feels so much longer already.”

“How true,” Victor agrees and rises, moving to sit on the armrest of Yuuri’s armchair. “But I do believe that three months should be celebrated. Say, Yuuri, would you like going out to the theatre? Or to the ballet, perhaps?”

Yuuri’s eyes widen. “Oh, I would like that very much!” he breathes, just before he realises how terribly improper that must sound. He immediately shuts his mouth, but Victor only chuckles.

“Then that is settled,” he says. “I shall get us tickets for the ballet. I must admit I do not know much about it, but I believe that Minako mentioned to me at our wedding luncheon that you were quite fond of it.”

Yuuri does not even want to imagine what else Minako might have said about him. “I would not call myself an expert by any means,” he says softly. “But I do enjoy ballet very much.”

“You must teach me everything about it,” Victor insists and reaches down to scratch Vicchan behind the ear. “My mother prefers the opera. You should go with her some time. I’m sure she would be delighted.”

“I’m always so nervous around your mother, Victor,” Yuuri admits and clasps his hands on top of the book he has been reading. “She is very kind, of course, but she always tries to…” He blushes. “… to give me marital advice,” he adds in a whisper, and Victor’s heart melts at the sight of his husband so wonderfully abashed.

“That we truly do not need, do we?” Victor chuckles. No, they do not need his mother’s advice in that regard, although they both know that Victor’s mother only means well. After all, it always takes time to get used to married life, especially for a young omega like Yuuri. But it seems that they have both been lucky, having been blessed with an understanding husband. Yuuri knows he will never have to fear anything from Victor, no matter how awkward and insecure he is. And Victor knows he will always come home to someone that likes him for himself, and not for his family name.

It is far more than they have dared to hope for, and they cannot deny that they are incredibly grateful to have found each other – even if their marriage has started under the most unusual circumstances.

A brief knock on the door interrupts them, followed by a servant entering the room. “Dinner is ready, your lordships.”

“Ah, just in time,” Victor says and rises, and Yuuri puts away the book. “What will we have tonight?”

“I requested fish for tonight,” Yuuri says as he follows Victor out of the library and to the dining room. “I hope that you do not mind.”

“Absolutely not,” Victor assures him with a smile as they enter the dining room and take their seats. It is rather lovely, Victor finds, to have dinner with only Yuuri as his company, for he is a wonderful conversational partner and Victor feels good around him. Understood and valued.

“I met Chris at the club today for lunch,” Victor says as he picks up fork and knife. “You remember Chris? He was at our wedding.”

“I do,” Yuuri says with a nod, taking his glass of water. “I hope he is doing well.”

“Oh, he is,” Victor hums. “He invited us to his husband’s birthday dinner tomorrow. Would you like to go? I know it is at terribly short notice, but I am sure you would get along with Phichit, and he has been dying to meet you ever since. Chris said Phichit was devastated that he could not come to our wedding.”

“That is very kind. If… If you think I should come with you—”

“Of course I do!” Victor says, his smile ever so genuine. “I know we have been taking it slow with public appearances, but perhaps a birthday dinner is the best place to start, would you not agree? A private setting, in the home of a dear friend.”

“If you say so,” Yuuri says and puts down his glass, clasping his hands on his lap. Of course he knows that Victor’s words make sense, but he feels uncertain nonetheless. “You are sure I would not… intrude?”

Victor puts down his cutlery and reaches across the table. “The invitation was meant for us both,” he says, gently touching Yuuri’s arm. “Of course it would mean the world to me if you came with me, but I understand if you do not wish to go out just yet.”

“I do!” Yuuri hastens to say. “I do want to come with you, but I’m just…” He falls silent, a small sigh coming over his lips as he finds himself at a loss for words yet again, and oh, he wishes he were braver than he is.

“I know the thought of meeting strangers scares you,” Victor says, and his hand drops to Yuuri’s lap where he intertwines their fingers. “But believe me, there is no better, no safer place to start, than the home of Christophe.”

Yuuri nods, his argumentation defeated, and he gives Victor’s hand a squeeze.

“I will be delighted to meet your friends, Victor,” he says softly, and Victor kisses his hand before he releases it again.

“I am sure you will find them very entertaining. Chris and I studied together in Oxford, even shared a room! The stories he could tell—oh, but I shall ask him not to, for you would never look at me the same way ever again!”

Yuuri laughs at that, and for the rest of their dinner, they speak about the ballet and all the other things they might do. Unfortunately, a messenger arrives just as they are about to retreat to the library again, and delivers a fresh stack of urgent papers right into Victor’s hands.

“I am terribly sorry, dearest,” he sighs. “I fear I am meant to be at my desk for some more time. Do not stay up for my sake, yes?”

Yuuri can see how much it pains Victor, but his husband is a member of the government and therefore a rather busy man. Interruptions like this are to be expected at all times, that he knows, but it never fails to sadden him, for his time with Victor is precious.

And so, he puts on a brave face and nods. “I shall go to bed, then,” he says. “Perhaps I will read there for a while.”

“Take the dogs with you,” Victor suggests and leans forward to kiss his cheek. “Sleep well, dearest.”

“Good night, Victor,” Yuuri says softly, the kiss to his cheek alone making him blush, but Victor has already turned on the heel and made his way to his study with the heaviest of sighs.

Yuuri claps his hands and the dogs run out of the library into the hallway, tails wagging at the prospect of getting to cuddle with him in the big bed. “Please tell Clara I am going to bed,” he says to the butler that has been patiently waiting by the stairs. “And…” Yuuri glances at the closed door to Victor’s study. “Please bring him a cup of tea, and perhaps some biscuits.”

“Yes, your lordship,” the butler says with a knowing smile. “I shall send Clara up right away.”

“Thank you. Come, Makka! Vicchan, come now. Don’t chew on the carpet.”

With the poodles as his entourage, Yuuri walks upstairs to the bedroom, where the maid joins him a few minutes later to help him out of his clothes and into his nightgown. She is a lovely thing, the same age as him and a beta. Most importantly, she is good to talk to, and has never made him felt unwelcome in what is now his home – for that has been Yuuri’s biggest fear: to not fit in, to be laughed at behind his back. But Victor’s servants are kind, just like their employer, and Yuuri feels safe around them.

“I’m not going to bed right away,” he tells Clara as she helps him out of the corset. “But say… I do need something to wear for the birthday dinner of Mr. Giacometti’s husband. Could you perhaps look through my wardrobe tomorrow and see if there is something suitable for the occasion?”

“Of course, your lordship,” Clara says and pulls the nightgown over Yuuri’s head before turning to bring him the dressing gown and his slippers. “Will his lordship join you later?”

“I’m afraid he will be spending a few more hours bound to his desk,” Yuuri sighs as he puts on the slippers and ties the dressing gown on the front. “He will most likely sleep next door.”

“I shall make sure there is water in the washing basin, then,” Clara says and picks up the gown he has worn today to put it away, chuckling as Vicchan tries to climb into the wardrobe. “His lordship surely works very hard.”

“He does,” Yuuri agrees with a small sigh and walks over to his bedside table, where he has left the book he is currently reading. A collection of poetry, gifted to him by Victor in Paris.

Yuuri holds this little book most dear.

“Is that everything, your lordship?” Clara has closed the wardrobe, barely able to keep the little Vicchan at bay.

“Vicchan, come here,” Yuuri hums and snaps his fingers, and the poodle rushes to join him by chaise longue at the fire, where Makkachin is already resting. “Yes, that is everything. Good night, Clara. Thank you.”

“Good night, your lordship,” Clara says with a small curtsy and as the door falls shut behind her, Yuuri sighs and takes a seat, pulling up his feet.

With the crackling fire as background noise, it is easy to almost fall asleep over his book, and similar things does Victor think at his desk, tiredly rubbing his eyes as he reads through file after file and cannot believe the stupidity of his colleagues. His neck hurts, the clock keeps ticking and the fire keeps crackling, and although it is not even that late yet, Victor wishes himself to be in bed, and away from work.

He continues for another hour until he realises that the room has become a little chilly. And indeed, the fire has gone out and Victor is sure that if he were to keep working, very little would come of it. And so, he shuts the folders and leaves them at his desk, yawning as he ascends the stairs to his bedroom where hopefully, a warm fire will await him.

The flames crackle in the fireplace as he comes in, and his valet follows soon after. They exchange a few words about the day, speaking in hushed voices as Victor is sure that his husband is already asleep next door, and he does not wish to wake him. But then, he hears the gentle barks of the smaller of their dogs, followed by a gentle: “Vicchan, behave now.”

Victor and his valet exchange an amused look. “I believe I should join my husband in his bedroom,” he says with a small smile and puts on his dressing gown. “But thank you for preparing the room. That will be all. Have a good night.”

Once his valet is gone, Victor washes his face and combs his hair, for he has run his hands through it several times whilst sitting at his desk. Only then, he briefly knocks on the door that connects his bedroom with Yuuri’s, and his heart flutters at Yuuri’s soft, yet delighted “Yes?”

Yuuri sits at the chaise longue by the fire, a quilt over his bare feet and a book in his hands, the dogs resting on the carpet beside him. At his sight, they raise their heads, and Makkachin immediately gets up to say hello and goodbye – for she knows that when Victor enters Yuuri’s bedroom, it is time for them to go and have the big bed next door all to themselves.

“Good girl,” Victor hums and pats her head.

Yuuri chuckles. “Off you go, Vicchan,” he says, and the little poodle runs after Makkachin. Victor closes the door and joins Yuuri by the fire.

“Were you not able to sleep?”

“I was not tired yet,” Yuuri says and closes the book, shifting on the chaise longue to make space for his husband. “Did you already finish?”

“I wish it were so,” Victor says with a sigh. “But I fear that I am good for nothing at the moment. I am simply too tired.”

“Continue tomorrow, then,” Yuuri says.

“I will,” Victor replies. “Shall we go to bed?”

“Of course,” Yuuri says and pushes the quilt back to rise. “I will be with you in a minute.”

Victor nods and gets up, making his way to the bed and slipping under the covers whilst Yuuri takes a seat at his dressing table to comb his hair and put on some cream and rose water.

“Thank you for the tea, by the way,” Victor says as he settles on the mattress and leans against the headboard.

“You tend to forget to drink when you are busy,” Yuuri says and smiles at him through the mirror. “Your mother told me so.”

Victor chuckles. “Part of her marital advice?”

Yuuri flushes adorably. “Kind of,” he mumbles and casts down his eyes in embarrassment. He quickly rubs the cream into his skin and applies a few drops of rose water to his ankles, then rises and takes off his dressing gown, folding it as neatly as always before joining Victor in bed.

“Do you already know which ballet you would like to see?” Victor asks as Yuuri settles beside him, instinctively rolling to his side to move closer to him. “Giselle is on. But if we wait a few more weeks, we can see The Nutcracker.”

“Why not both?” Yuuri suggests and lies down on his side, clutching the pillow the way he always does. “If you do not mind, that is. Both are excellent.”

“I had not thought of that,” Victor says in surprise. “Yes, we shall see both. Giselle first, and then, The Nutcracker. I have heard only the best about both of them.”

“I hope you will like them,” Yuuri says with a small yawn. “How come that you never saw a ballet when you were little?”

“Ah, I was a rather… how did my mother put it… insolent child,” Victor tells him, and Yuuri begins to laugh.

“Really?” He asks, and his eyes sparkle so beautifully that Victor is sure they must possess magical powers, luring him in.

“I caused her many headaches,” Victor says. “I take it that you saw many ballets when you were little, then?”

Yuuri nods. “My mother loved taking me with her to the theatres. Mari never liked having to sit still for long.”

“If she did, you would not be such an expert now.” Victor cannot resist the urge to kiss Yuuri’s forehead, and as he does, he sees Yuuri smile. He is simply adorable – there is no other word to describe him.

“I am hardly an expert,” Yuuri murmurs and moves even closer to him, leaning into Victor’s warmth.

“To me, you are,” Victor hums and closes his eyes, pressing a tender kiss to Yuuri’s lips, and he sighs softly as he feels Yuuri reciprocate. Those are the kisses that they only ever share in private, in the sanctuary of their marital bed, when no one else can see them. It is not that Victor does not long to kiss Yuuri at other times – on the contrary. If he were to have his way, he would kiss Yuuri at every hour of the day, in front of servants, outside the church after worship, during their walks at the park. But Yuuri is shy, and such behaviour would be highly improper.

And so, his heart rejoices even more when Yuuri kisses him in return, and those kisses tell him that the feelings that Victor has for his husband are very much mutual.

“Say, Yuuri…” Victor whispers against his mate’s lips. “Do you want to…”

Yuuri only gives a nod before he kisses Victor again, and more does Victor not need to know. Although the law states that an alpha has the right to mate with their omega whenever the alpha wants it, Victor would never dare to make a move without asking first. His Yuuri has never denied him, always accepting Victor’s advances and melting into his kisses. That, and the cries of pleasure that Victor manages to coax from his mate tell him that Yuuri enjoys this, that he enjoys him, and that they could not be more perfect for each other.

Carefully, Victor moves Yuuri onto his back and settles between his legs, running his hands up and down the omega’s thighs, and every single time without fail, Victor marvels at how soft they are under his fingertips.

“You smell lovely,” he whispers as he buries his face in Yuuri’s neck, pressing countless kisses to his skin. “You are most divine…”

Yuuri lets out a soft moan, moving his head to the side as Victor kisses him there, instinctively parting his legs as Victor moves to lie between them. “I am not divine,” he sighs, reaching up to slowly wrap his arms around Victor’s neck.

“If you only knew,” Victor murmurs as he gently moves against him, just enough to cause Yuuri to purr in delight. They do not need to rush, for they have all the time in the world, and Victor knows that Yuuri likes it best when they take it slow. They have tried it in various ways, of course, having put the free time that was their honeymoon to good use. But on regular nights, they prefer it like this, in the warmth of their bed, indulging in each other’s touch.

Yuuri runs his hand through Victor’s hair, the gesture alone so incredibly gentle. “You do not need to flatter me in our marriage bed,” he says, but Victor can hear that he is smiling.

“If not I, then who will?” Victor asks in a whisper, groaning as he enters Yuuri slowly. His mate gasps gently, dropping his hands to the pillow, but Victor knows that he is not in pain, not after the many times they have done this together. “Is that okay…?”

“Yes,” Yuuri whispers, keeping his eyes closed as Victor moves deeper into him with outmost care until they have both found the most comfortable position. Victor is hovering above his mate for a moment before he lowers himself a little, resting his arms on either side of Yuuri’s head, just so he can support himself comfortably without crushing his mate. He can feel Yuuri’s bare thighs brushing against his hips, just where his shift has ridden up to his waist, the physical touch sending pleasant shivers down his spine.

Once Victor has settled inside him, he pauses, looking down at Yuuri. He is a sight to behold. He always is, if one were to ask Victor. But it is in moments like these when Victor realises how dear the omega is to him. How much he likes him. That yes, he likes him so much that it hurts, and he feels honoured to be the one to have claimed him as his own.

He begins to move, slowly, gently, and the most beautiful purr comes over Yuuri’s lips.

“Do you know how beautiful you are when you are like this?” Victor asks quietly, leaning down to brush a strand of hair out of his lover’s face. Yuuri opens his eyes.

“Like… Like what?”

“When your hair is all disorderly and your cheeks are flushed in the loveliest shade of pink,” Victor explains, just as Yuuri shuts his eyes again and lets out a small whine, one of the kind that tells Victor he is doing things just right. It is always a pleasure to make Yuuri sing. To mate with him and not bring him joy is something Victor would not even dare to think of, and the fact that most people claim omega to be incapable to feel pleasure disgusts him. For his Yuuri is the clear proof that indeed, omega do feel pleasure in the act, and Yuuri deserves all of it. Yuuri whines again, louder this time, and Victor cannot help but chuckle.

“Are we a little sensitive today?” Victor hums into his ear and kisses his temple. “Do you want me to go slower?”

“N-No, it’s fine,” Yuuri breathes and hooks one leg around Victor’s waist out of sheer instinct, and Victor cannot help but be delighted at his husband’s response to him. He continues to thrust into him in the slow, careful rhythm they have chosen for tonight, and Victor loves how it allows him to keep a clearer head, to kiss and whisper to his mate in the midst of pleasure.

“Let me know if it is too much,” he murmurs, and Yuuri nods, putting an arm around his neck as a response.

“I just feel… ahh… it… tingles, somehow,” Yuuri tells him, and although Victor has no idea what he is doing differently this time, it pleases him immensely that Yuuri enjoys it so much.

“I can change our position if you—”

“No, no! Leave it as it is!” Yuuri blurts out, and he gasps again, but more at the boldness of his words, and what they mean. He looks up at Victor in utter embarrassment, but Victor only smiles.

“I like it when you become vocal,” he says, and Yuuri blushes even more.

“I’m not vocal,” he murmurs, almost like a defiant child.

“If you could only hear yourself the way I do,” Victor replies and shifts a little, changing their angle just slightly. It is enough to make Yuuri whimper and grab Victor’s upper arms, and Victor notices that his mate is biting his lower lip, and that is always proof of how much Yuuri enjoys himself. “Should I go a little faster?”

Yuuri closes his eyes and nods vehemently, and Victor obliges. He picks up the pace, just barely, but it is enough to make Yuuri produce the most beautiful sounds known to man. And those are only the sounds he makes during a traditional mating. Victor does not even dare to imagine what Yuuri will sound like once they have gotten to known each other even better. Oh, he has fantasised about it quite a lot, the things he would like to do to Yuuri if he let him. But he knows that Yuuri is shy, and has not even allowed Victor to see him fully naked, always wearing a shift that goes down to his ankles.

But these things take time, and a lot of trust.

With the pace of Victor’s thrusts increased, it does not take them long to fall into a comfortable rhythm that suits them both. Yuuri has long let go of him again, his eyes closed and his arms resting to either side of his head as he lies beneath Victor, his lips parted in sweetest ecstasy. Victor tries to be gentle with him, but it is hard, with Yuuri moaning softly, not even aware of what he is doing to the alpha. Repeatedly, Victor has to remind himself to not grab Yuuri’s hips so hard, and it is very, very easy to lose control.

“Vi-Vitya…ah…” Yuuri whines softly and instinctively grabs the pillow, and Victor can tell the omega is close. He picks up the pace once more, and Yuuri cries out in pleasure, burying his face in the pillow beneath his head as if deeply embarrassed, and Victor cannot help but feel triumphant at the sight. It takes him only a few more thrusts to come as well, groaning softly into Yuuri’s neck as the tension leaves his body and he spends himself inside him.

Somewhere in his head, Victor knows that if they keep going like this, it is only a matter of time until Yuuri falls pregnant.

But for the moment, he is content with things as they are.

Carefully, he removes himself from Yuuri and lies down beside him, only to put his arms around him again and hold him close. Yuuri is still shivering, but in a good way, and he buries his face in Victor’s chest.

“Sleep well, dearest,” Victor whispers and presses a tender kiss to Yuuri’s hair.

* * *

Yuuri eats little the following morning, only some toast with jam together with a cup of tea, but Victor hardly notices it. The alpha is hiding behind the morning paper, muttering to himself in annoyance about something Yuuri does not understand, but the omega is glad that his lack of appetite goes unnoticed. Whatever the papers are writing has Victor forgetting about his own breakfast altogether, and when he finally folds the paper in half again, he merely finishes his coffee.

“I’m afraid I will have to spend the entire day at the office,” Victor mutters, and Yuuri knows well how much his husband hates that. “But I will be back in time before we head to Phichit’s birthday dinner.”

“Do not work too hard,” Yuuri says softly, and Victor sighs, taking his hand and kissing it.

“And you do not worry too much, hm?” He says before letting go of Yuuri’s hand again and rising. Yuuri follows, and the servants come in to clear the table.

“I merely know how you tend to work too hard, and that you often forget to drink over it,” Yuuri says as they walk out into the hall where the butler is already waiting with Victor’s coat and hat.

“Thank you,” Victor says to the man as he puts on his coat. Then, he turns to Yuuri again, his expression softer this time. “It is very kind of you to worry about me so, my dear. But I would hate to be the reason for the frown on your beautiful face.” He gently grasps Yuuri’s chin and kisses his forehead, as if to kiss his worries away. “What will you do today?”

“I have to run a few errands,” Yuuri replies.

“Nothing too big, I hope?” Victor asks immediately. “Please do take the carriage, and take Clara with you.”

“I will,” Yuuri promises. “Clara will watch over me.”

“I believe the girl deserves a raise,” Victor says and gives Yuuri’s hand a squeeze. “I shall see you tonight.”

“Have a good day,” Yuuri says and watches his husband go, and he knows that Victor’s mind is already occupied with the work that awaits him at parliament.

He asks the butler to get the carriage ready for him, then calls for Clara and gets fully dressed with her help. It is sunny in London, albeit chilly, and Yuuri puts on a coat before he steps outside.

“Where are we going, your lordship?” Clara asks once they have settled in the carriage.

“I need to have something looked at,” Yuuri replies before he meets her curious gaze. “But no word to my husband, nor to anyone else about our destination.”

Clara opens her mouth and closes again, her eyes shimmering with realisation.

“Of course.”

* * *

Victor barely makes it home that evening, rushing through the front door just in time.

“I was about to send someone to get you,” Yuuri says as he appears at the top of the stairs, and Victor stops in his tracks, mouth open at the sight of his mate. “Are you alright?”

But Victor cannot help but stare at his husband. He wears a French ball gown, one that they have bought in Paris on their honeymoon. It is white with black ornaments, arranged in intricate patterns. The sleeves are ruffled, showing off Yuuri’s slender, pale arms.

Victor blinks. “Forgive me,” he says and takes off his coat, thrusting it into the butler’s arms before walking up the stairs to meet Yuuri there. “I was stunned by how beautiful you look.”

Yuuri flushes. “I’m glad you like my gown,” he says softly. “But you should not flatter me now but get changed,” he adds softly.

“Right, we are far too late already,” Victor agrees, taking Yuuri’s hand and pulling him along to his bedroom where the valet has already prepared his evening wear. Yuuri takes a seat on the bed, watching as Victor quickly strips out of his clothes and moves to the basin to wash his face.

“Did you have a lot to do?” Yuuri asks as Victor dries his face and then moves to put on a fresh shirt.

“Oh, you have no idea. The entire parliament was in a state of upheaval when I arrived. The queen’s health issues, you see.”

Both Yuuri and the valet freeze.

“But I thought she was well?” Yuuri asks worriedly.

“It seems so, but she is old,” Victor reminds him, and also looks at his valet. “I fear we must prepare ourselves for her passing. And for a new time to come.”

Yuuri absentmindedly touches his necklace, saying nothing as Victor continues to get dressed. A world without their queen is something neither of them can easily imagine, for she has been around for as long as they can both remember. But together with the century, everything else is also changing.

“But we shall not let it dampen our mood tonight, shall we,” Victor says as he slips into his evening jacket. “Say, dearest, were you successful with your errands today?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, yes, I was,” Yuuri replies and rises from the bed as Victor combs his hair one last time. “It was nice to get some fresh air.”

“I’m glad,” Victor says and offers him his arm. “Now, I fear we must make haste, or dear Christophe will be terribly mad at us.”

Fortunately, their driver knows the way well, and knows which route to take to make sure that they arrive just in time to be still fashionably late yet not putting themselves into the centre of attention. It is, fortunately, only a birthday dinner, which means that only close friends and family are invited, and a little faux pas like coming late will not be on display for the whole of London society to see.

“Victor!” Chris exclaims as the butler lets them in, stepping out into the hallway to greet them. “And dear Yuuri. What a beauty you have there with you, Victor. If I were not a happily married man, I would be the most jealous.”

“Chris,” Victor chuckles and shakes his friend’s hand. “Yes, my Yuuri looks wonderful tonight, don’t you think?”

Yuuri blushes and because Chris is a friend, offers him his hand. “Thank you for the invitation,” he says softly.

“You must not thank me, but my husband,” Chris says and looks over his shoulder. “Ah, darling! There you are. Let me introduce you to Victor’s mate. Yuuri, this is my dear husband, Phichit.”

A pretty omega with the most beautiful complexion that Yuuri has ever seen practically floats towards them, his gown in a deep, rich red and gold and flattering the tone of his skin. But what stands out the most about the omega is his smile, a smile so wide and friendly that Yuuri cannot help but take a liking to him at once.

“Good evening,” Yuuri says softly. “And happy birthday.”

“How do you do!” Phichit says and beams at him before turning to Victor. “Victor, why have you hidden him away for so long? He is simply adorable!”

Victor laughs and pulls Yuuri closer, gently rubbing his waist, knowing well how easily embarrassed his mate is. “I do sincerely apologise, dear Phichit,” he says. “And let me wish you a happy birthday as well.”

“Thank you,” Phichit says and turns to Yuuri again, immediately taking him by the arm. “Oh, I have been dying to meet you ever since I heard that dear Victor was getting married. You simply must sit by my side tonight! Otherwise I might be stuck with my mother-in-law. Don’t get me wrong, I do like her, but conversations with her are always so dreadfully dull.”

Yuuri has no other choice but to follow Phichit to the dining room, where the other guests have already assembled. Upon their arrival, both Victor and Yuuri are greeted instantly, and it is as if Phichit knows that Yuuri hates attention, for he immediately pulls him into a conversation that only concerns the two of them.

Dinner is a pleasant affair, with the cooks having outdone themselves for the occasion. Phichit, Yuuri learns, is more than just nice company, but also incredibly easy to talk to, and very much unlike the other omegas he has met in London so far. Not only is he witty and highly entertaining, but he is also deeply in love with Christophe, who returns his husband’s open affection equally, their eyes never straying too far from the other. Chris, Yuuri realises, is very much like Victor in regards to his marriage, and treats Phichit with respect and dignity.

After dinner, they retreat to the drawing room for drinks and music. There is a piano by the window that Chris immediately chooses as his spot for the night, playing simple, pleasant tunes for their enjoyment. Yuuri cannot help but be reminded of the days of his childhood, when his father had been the one to sit at the pianoforte, entertaining both wife and children. They had always been singing together, and Mari had always been the loudest, albeit having no musical talent at all.

It had been a lot of fun.

“Now dear, we cannot go on without having you sing for us,” Chris says to Phichit, who laughs and puts his glass of champagne aside before he rises. “It is a fact,” Chris declares, “that all omega have the loveliest of singing voices. Say, Yuuri, do you sing?”

Yuuri blushes. “N-Not very often,” he admits, and he silently prays that Chris will not ask him to sing in front of everyone. Fortunately, Phichit saves him, placing a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “How scandalous of you to ask that, dearest. They are newlyweds! Yuuri should only sing for Victor, keep it as a gift for only his husband to enjoy!”

“You are quite right,” Chris laughs and taps a few keys on the piano. “But your voice the whole of London knows.”

“I am not ashamed to admit that,” Phichit gives back. “Now, shall we?”

Victor leans closer to Yuuri, whispering into his ear. “Phichit used to be a singer at the cabaret,” he tells him quietly. “Chris saw him on the stage one night and he claims that he immediately lost his heart to him.”

To Yuuri, that explains a lot – from Phichit’s unusual behaviour to his open-mindedness. Other people most likely think little of him, Yuuri realises, solely because Phichit is clearly not of noble birth and used to be an entertainer. But he stands there beside Chris, singing so beautifully that they all cannot help but listen in awe, and claims his place in the world in his very own way.

It is something to admire, for it takes a lot of strength to survive in a world of pleasantries and intrigues.

When Phichit finishes, everyone claps, and it is not just out of politeness. Phichit has a beautiful voice, and had he stayed at the cabaret, he would have surely had an impressive career.

“Now, another song!” Chris declares and begins to play. “Something about love! About its tragic beauty…”

Phichit shakes his head and sits down beside Yuuri, grabbing a glass of champagne from the table beside them. “He always wants me to sing,” he says. “Victor, I was told that you and my husband used to entertain the crowds at your favourite pub during your student years?”

“We did,” Victor laughs and meets Chris’ gaze.

“Well, then here is my birthday wish,” Phichit grins, and Victor has no choice but to get up and join Chris at the piano.

“We used to play together,” Victor explains to everyone as he takes a seat beside Chris on the stool. “We had this little competition, one of us would pick the song, and the other would pick the pace. Needless to say, chaos ensued.”

He looks at Yuuri and smiles, and that smile alone sends shivers down the omega’s spine.

What ensues is indeed a lot of chaos, but also a lot of fun. Victor and Chris make an incredible pair at the piano, picking the most ridiculous songs and playing that at high paces, only to fall slow again, and singing along so terribly that Phichit, Yuuri, and the others cannot help but laugh heartily.

It is during the third song when Yuuri suddenly starts to feel a little faint, rubbing his arm and pressing a hand against his stomach. It is as if the temperature in the room were changing rapidly from hot, to cold, and to hot again, and it is so loud, so very loud.

“Yuuri?” Phichit is the first to notice that something is wrong, his hand touching Yuuri’s shoulder. “Is everything alright?”

Yuuri takes a deep breath. “I suddenly feel a little faint,” he says quietly. “I don’t… I don’t know why…”

“Let us open a window, yes?” Phichit says and immediately gets up, moving past the piano to draw back the curtains and let in some fresh air. Victor and Chris immediately stop playing as they realise that something is wrong, Victor looking the most concerned than anyone has ever seen him.

“There, Yuuri, some fresh air,” Phichit says as he returns to the sofa, and Victor follows, taking Yuuri’s hand.

“Are you alright, my dear?” He asks worriedly, feeling Yuuri’s forehead. “What is it?”

Yuuri hiccups, and suddenly, his eyes widen and he presses his hand to his mouth before he runs out of the room and into the hall.

“Yuuri!”

The omega stops by the stairs, for he is too exhausted to run further. He grabs the handrail with both hands, shivers shaking his body, and he is certain that the ground is falling away beneath his feet. But it is only his husband that has come to his rescue, pulling him into his arms and holding him close, whispering to him.

Yuuri is still shaking as the nausea finally subsides, and he can barely look anyone in the eye, let alone Victor, as his husband apologises to Chris and Phichit, explaining that it would be best if they were to leave right away, for Yuuri is ill and needs to rest.

Phichit says something to him, well-meaning words of comfort, but Yuuri barely hears him, leaning against Victor as he is guided out to the carriage. They leave the window open to let in some fresh air, and Yuuri manages to calm down.

Victor’s hand never leaves his back.

At home, Clara gasps at the state of him before helping him into his shift. As a precaution, she leaves the washing bowl right beside the bed, in case Yuuri feels sick, and then leaves him in the care of his husband. Victor has long decided to spend the night with him, to not leave him alone when he is not feeling well, and Yuuri’s heart aches, terribly so.

* * *

Victor is up before Yuuri, having not slept at all out of sheer concern for his mate. Fortunately, Yuuri has managed to fall asleep at some point, but Victor has been lying awake all night.

Never before has he felt so helpless.

To see Yuuri sick, to see Yuuri suffer and shaking all over – it had made Victor realise many things, among them the fact that he has never seen something more frightening. Never before has he been so worried, so shaken.

Yuuri had been feeling so well all along – perhaps the food had not agreed with him. Indeed, Chris and Phichit had served rather extravagant dishes, things that neither of them had ever heard of.

Yes, that must be it.

Victor gets up quietly and moves next door to get dressed on his own before he makes his way down to the servant quarters. He does not go there often, especially not in the early mornings, but his servants are awake, and just as concerned as he is. Victor exchanges a few words with them, glad they will be able to fulfil his unusual request in no time, before he returns upstairs again to wait in the study. About an hour later, a servant brings him what he has asked for, and as he hears Clara go upstairs to wake Yuuri, Victor gets up and follows.

He knocks before he enters Yuuri’s bedroom, the bouquet of roses in his hands. Victor hopes that Yuuri will like them, for he knows that roses are his favourite flowers, and that they will lift Yuuri’s spirits. As he enters, he finds Yuuri sitting on the chaise longue in his morning gown, still a little pale as Clara briefly combs his hair. She smiles at Victor’s sight, just as Yuuri’s eyes widen at the sight of the flowers.

“Thank you, Clara,” Victor says and the maid gets the hint, curtsying before leaving the room.

Victor crosses the room and cups Yuuri’s cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Good morning, dearest,” he says before sitting down beside his mate. “I am so glad to see that you are out of bed. Are you feeling better?”

Yuuri blushes at the kiss, and nothing delights Victor more than to see the colour returning to his pale cheeks.

“I am,” Yuuri says softly before his gaze falls on the flowers again. “What is this?”

“Can a man not want to surprise his mate with roses?” Victor asks, placing the bouquet in Yuuri’s arms. “As a little cheering up. You gave me quite the fright yesterday.”

“They are beautiful…” Yuuri says quietly as he takes the flowers from Victor, carefully holding them in his arms as if they were the most fragile thing in the world. “Th-Thank you, Victor.”

“Always, darling,” Victor says and kisses his forehead again.

Yuuri is terribly quiet for a moment, looking down at the roses. And then, all of a sudden, a tear rolls down his cheek, and another, and another, and Victor’s heart skips a beat.

“Yuuri!” He breathes and takes the flowers from his mate as he cries before taking his hands. “Yuuri, what is it? Are you in pain? What is it that troubles you so?”

Seeing Yuuri cry is what Victor hates the most, not because of Yuuri but because of himself, for it makes him feel even more helpless than he already is. How is he to react? What is he to do? He could kiss him, of course, but that is hardly the right way to help Yuuri when he is so upset.

“Yuuri, I beg you,” Victor breathes, cupping his cheeks. “What is it with you? How can I help you?”

Yuuri sniffs and averts his gaze, as if ashamed of letting Victor see him cry. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, reaching up to wipe away the tears. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, my love?” Victor asks, beginning to panic. “Yuuri, I don’t understand…”

Yuuri shakes his head, closing his eyes. “I have not… not been honest with you.”

“Not… not been honest with me?” Victor suddenly feels faint himself.

Yuuri swallows thickly. “I… I did not have errands to run yesterday,” he says quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I… I had to… I went to… I saw a doctor…”

Victor stares at him, inside him, a thousand questions, but he feels that there is more – that Yuuri is not done yet, that there is more to come.

“I’m…” Yuuri sniffs, and looks at him only briefly. “I’m having a baby, Victor.”

He looks down at his hands on his lap, and Victor has never been more at a loss for words.

“Yuuri…” He manages to say, but nothing more. There are so many emotions at once, tugging at his heart, and Victor hardly knows what to make of them. He lets go of Yuuri’s face and takes his hands instead, Yuuri’s beautiful, pale hands that feel so small and fragile in Victor’s own. But in them, there is warmth, and through them, Victor gives Yuuri his reassurance. He waits patiently as Yuuri dries his tears and recollects himself, taking slow, even breaths.

“I felt a little ill in the mornings and didn’t have my… my… my monthlies,” Yuuri says quietly, and Victor nods to show that he is listening. “I went to s-see the doctor Minako a-also goes to and…” He sniffs again. “He s-said that I’m with child.”

“Yuuri,” Victor breathes, reaching out to touch his mate’s cheek. “Yuuri, why did you not tell me?”

Yuuri tears up again, and Victor barely understands him. “B-Because you s-said… when we were in P-Paris that th-there was n-no rush with having babies. I thought you w-would be a-angry…”

Victor has absolutely no memory of ever saying such a thing, but then again, it sounds very much like something he would say in the heat of the moment, and of those there have been plenty in Paris.

“Yuuri…” Victor sighs and pulls his husband into his arms, holding him close, and his heart aches in relief as Yuuri clings to him, seeking his warmth. “Yuuri, my love, how could I possibly be angry? Yuuri, how could I ever be angry with you, when I love you so?”

The words are out before Victor even realises it, but as Yuuri pulls away, his eyes red and puffy from crying, his mate looks at him in shock and awe, and Victor holds his breath.

“You love me?” Yuuri breathes.

Victor swallows, and nods. “I do. I do love you so, Yuuri. With all my heart.”

Yuuri blushes, and it is the most adorable blush Victor has seen on him so far, and he cannot help but kiss him on the lips. “And I was the most stupid to say such a thing to you,” he says quietly. “For I am the most happy right now.”

“You… you are?” Yuuri asks weakly, as if he can still not believe that Victor is not angry with him.

Victor nods and kisses him again. “I love you, Yuuri,” he whispers. “Never doubt that.”

Yuuri sniffs and for a moment, Victor is certain that his mate will cry again. But Yuuri merely buries his face in his shoulder, and whispers: “I love you, too, Victor.”

They sit like this for a while, the flowers forgotten on the floor, between them only the love they share for one another, and Victor is sure he could not be happier than he is in this moment.

“We are having a little one,” he says quietly, after what feels like an eternity, and Yuuri stirs in his arms.

“I’m scared,” he admits, and only then he looks up at Victor, his brown eyes filled with uncertainty. “But I’m also… hopeful. Is that not ridiculous?”

Victor shakes his head. “Absolutely not.” He kisses his temple ever so gently and then brushes a strand of hair out of Yuuri’s face. “But I am with you. On every step of the way. And I shall hold your hand, and never let go. And you will always have my heart.”

Yuuri smiles at that, and it is a smile that could light up the darkest of hours.

It is all that Victor ever needs to see.

“And you will have mine,” Yuuri whispers, and his hand comes to rest on his belly.

Victor kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> I just want my babies to have babies. I'm a simple woman.


End file.
